These scars are mine
by ThusSpokeRaven
Summary: Short fic based on a request. AU. Set before season one.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Short story based on a request.** **AU. Pre-season 1 starting with a slightly different version of Operation Pale Fire.** **Enjoy. :)**

 **Updates are also coming for Ascension.**

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 _"My pain, my pride, these scars are mine." ~ Otep_

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Nikita stared down the length of her weapon toward the body on the floor with a detached interest. A voice came through her comm interrupting her brief moment of contemplation. She still had work to do. Moving swiftly and as lightly as a shadow through a hall, the young assassin found herself standing in front of another person. Another target... Had to be another target. Nikita could not afford to think otherwise. This _girl_ , this young teen had to stay just a target or... The future didn't bear thinking about. Nikita's finger tightened as the _girl_ looked her in the face. _Girl..._ This was a _girl_ not a human shape on a piece of paper, not a Division mission, not a mark. Her future didn't bear thinking about either way. The only thing worth that second look was her soul.

She couldn't take care of the _girl._ She could save her life, but anything beyond that would turn the _girl_ an albatross around her neck. Nikita would make sure someone the family trusted got the _girl_.

 _She's just a young girl,_ Nikita again reminded herself. She had to keep her own ass alive if she was going to figure it all out. Nikita mentally said goodbye to the young woman she had freed and killed all on the same night.

Nikita's life changed in an instant, much like the teen girl in the estate. She fell in love despite everything Division had taught her. It changed everything that she had ever felt in terms of loyalty toward Percy and Division. She took suicide missions. She took on assassinations that made her feel filthy inside. All she wanted was a small piece of the world for herself. All she wanted was for it to be okay to love someone. Unfortunately, Division was a jealous and vengeful god.

When Daniel died, it was made to look like it had nothing to do with Division. Everything in Nikita screamed it had everything to do with Division. In time, Percy and Amanda would both admit it to her face. She was at a loss until she remembered one thing. Everything they had taught her, it had a second use. It could make her free, keep her free if she was careful. All she had to do was take her chance when it was offered and it would come.

The young assassin relished her life on the run. At first it was cold and wet and lonely, but then it got better. Oh, she still lived like a wolf in the trees curled in the heavy roots through long nights, but she was free. The cold metal weapon at her back became her protection, not her curse. Soon she was able to upgrade to walls and a roof of her own. This, this was all the heaven a messed up kid grown up into an assassin could dare dream of.

Nikita grew angry. She was free and happy in that freedom, but her soul began nagging again. How many other kids would be lost to Division to become assassins or worse. Worse... there was that thought. Nikita warmed up her laptop and began looking up Alexandra Udinov. The girl she had saved so long ago was thought to be dead on the surface of things. Nikita looked deeper, then deeper still. Apparently, no one that the Udinov family trusted was worthy of trust. The girl had been sold.

It took a few weeks to find Alexandra Udinov. Nikita frowned into her wine glass as she stared toward the VIP section of the busy strip club. The girl had become a woman, a very attractive young woman. She was selling herself for the Russian sex traffickers that had bought her from the family friend. Now and again, Nikita saw flashes of spirit, but the flashes were dimmed by little bags of powder given her by her master, her owner. One of the few controls not exercised by Division. Drugs to numb and control also made subjects less able to function independently and effectively. Nikita's frown deepened as she put her glass down on the coaster in front of her. These drugs were slowly killing a magnificent young woman.

"You a cop?" a gravelly Russian tinged voice queried in her ear.

She smiled and swiveled on the bar stool to face the man speaking. He was enforcer material for a lower level thug. All muscle, all intimidating. Not even vaguely threatening to someone who could read fighters. He moved like a boxer. All about landing a perfect punch. Useless for a more involved fight. "I am about as much cop as you are big guy," she responded lightly.

His chin jerked at the table where Alexandra Udinov was just appearing to feel the full frostiness of the last packet of drugs she had been given. "What is your interest in that table?"

Nikita tilted her head as if contemplating the whole vip tableau in a new light. "Beautiful women over there."

"You wish to be over there..." he prompted before smiling, reading her face, he amended his guess. "You wish to play with one of the beautiful women."

Nikita's plan had been to find out where the women were kept and then slowly work out the best way to take Alexandra Udinov out of the mob's hands, but she had not become Division's best agent by ignoring opportunity. "The one on the left. I want to play with the one on the left." She smiled seductively toward the table.

The meaty man frowned as he registered who she was indicating. "She is...not so good. Discipline issues."

Nikita offered him a mischievous smile and a raised brow. "Maybe I like discipline issues...and handcuffs."

He snorted. "And maybe you pay extra, double if you damage the merchandise."

Nikita looked more boldly at the table and at Alexandra Udinov. She picked up her drink and sipped slowly and thoughtfully. "When?"

The large man chuckled. "When can the lady produce sufficient cash? I will ask the boss the current price."

She pulled a rubber band bound roll of cash from her pocket and flashed it at him. "I think you will find me paid up and covered for any... accidents."

He smiled darkly and plucked the roll from her fingers. "Done." The bodyguard twirled a finger at Alex. She looked over at the pimp and received a nod. Standing, the young woman was soon making her way over.

Nikita stood from her stool. The bodyguard touched her shoulder. "We have rooms upstairs."

"Not a chance," she purred. She had been tempted to take his finger and use it to twist him painfully, but she wanted to walk out of here clean and easy. She already had Division looking for her. If the Russian mob started searching her out too, she wanted to give herself a good head start. The dark haired woman nodded toward the wad of cash. "You have my security deposit."

Nodding, he jerked a thumb directing Alex to move closer. "This woman is your companion for the night. Follow her." Turning he looked at Nikita. "She will need her... medication before long. You would return her then anyway. She is a bitch when she is not properly dosed."

Nikita grabbed Alexandra's hand and dragged her to her side. "I told you, I like discipline issues."

Alex wrapped her other arm around Nikita and looked up at her with heavy lidded blue eyes. She rubbed her body against the other woman. "I'm Sasha." Alex purred.

Unwrapping herself, Nikita pulled the other woman out of the strip club after her. As soon as she was clear of the camera on the front entrance, Nikita started striding faster. Alex began an awkward trot in the heels that her enslaver had chosen for her. "Where are we going?" the young Russian asked.

Nikita smiled. "My car is on the other side of the block." She stopped and turned.

Alexandra aka Sasha slowed to a saunter and slid her hands up Nikita's arms. "There's an alley right over there." Her chin jerked lightly toward the gap between the buildings.

The dark haired woman smiled slightly. "I've done this before. I won't put you in danger."

A puzzled look slid over the Russian's features. "What?"

Nikita swiftly used her foot to force Alex off balance. Stepping in behind the struggling woman, the assassin pressed at the carotid soon rendering the young sex slave unconscious. Nikita began moving the brunette on to the car. It would be a haul, but safer than if the drug addled young woman figured out something was wrong and started screaming. Nikita slid her in the back seat, binding her swiftly.

"Sorry," she said quietly, gently stroking the unconscious woman's cheek. She shook her head. Where did that come from?


	2. Chapter 2

When Alexandra awoke she was on a thin mat in some kind of heated closet of Nikita's hideaway home in the heart of the loft. Alex screamed. Nikita came into view of the glass in the door. "Alex."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Sasha."

"Alexandra Udinov," she replied firmly. She found herself protective and attracted to the other woman, but she would not give an inch right now. She couldn't afford to if Alex was going to be saved from what had been done to her.

Alex tensed and began shaking. She was starting to feel the beginnings of her body's call for drugs. She shook her head and focused. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the last survivor of a massacre who was supposed to be safe with a family friend. You were not supposed to be a strung out sex slave."

"Fuck you," Alex hissed.

Sighing, the dark haired woman indicated a small bundle in the corner. "We have to get you clean before I can talk to you. Those drugs are going to make you want to rip your skin off in that tight lacy stuff. Shorts and a shirt and some other things you'll want."

"I don't want anything." Alex began struggling to stand in the small space. She pounded at the thick glass in the steam fogged door.

Nikita backed up a step. "The heat from the sauna will help you get clean. It will get harder before it gets easier, but it can get easier." She kicked lightly at the panel at the bottom of the door. "Need food or a book, give a shout."

"I need to go back to the club away from you!" Alex screamed for help.

Nikita turned away and walked toward the workbench that she had moved closer when she changed out the door. It was not obviously line of sight, but she would be able to check out the agitated woman with minimal effort. The former assassin began her own very special sort of housekeeping, cleaning weapons and checking tagged websites watching for signs of pursuit. It would likely be days before she could effectively reach the other woman. She prepared herself for days of screams and pleads for drugs.

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Alexandra moved around the room, kicking at the bedding on the floor and the bucket in the corner. She was sweating and shaking and dying inside. She pounded on wall after wall until streaks of blood covered every wall and partially obscured the glass. Nikita frowned at the streaks and hardened herself. She wanted to rush in and try to make everything better, but if she did, she would undo what progress had been made.

The days passed slowly when one day Alex came to the glass and watched Nikita at the workstation. Standing, the assassin moved to the window and waited silently. "How did you know my name?" she asked.

Nikita sighed. "I know the organization that killed your family." She looked away. "They didn't deserve it and you didn't deserve life as a drugged out sex slave."

"Who killed them?" asked Alex looking simultaneously more washed out and more focused than she had been in days.

"Division. A secret government agency gone rogue."

"I'll kill them," Alex pledged firmly.

"They are dangerous Alex."

"I'll kill them." she repeated.

Nikita put her hands on either side of the small window and leaned on the door. "I want to stop them."

Alex leaned in her eyes red, her hair stringy, the picture of withdrawal. She had steel in her voice as the words came again. "I'll kill them."

Nikita nodded. "There might be a way to stop them with your help, but I can't guarantee you'll get the blood you want or that you will even want the blood when the time comes."

"Get me out of here and give me a gun."

The former assassin sighed again. "You go in like this, you will never get close enough to do it."

"Teach me," Alex commanded.

Nikita looked away. She would be sending in a lamb even after training. Could she live with it?

"Please," Alex said her fingers trailing through the condensation. "Please, help me."

Nikita lifted the latch and opened the door. Alex stumbled out, sweaty, exhausted, but now driven looking. The former assassin tried to tell herself that it didn't matter what kept Alex going as long she kept going. She raised a finger. "Grab a shower," she said before turning away to get some dry clothes for the other woman.

When she returned, the Russian woman was slowly undressing, her hip against the sink to help her stay balanced. Nikita stopped in the doorway. Her eyes were locked on the other woman's back. She put the clothes on the top of the toilet tank and slowly stepped close. Alexandra froze as she heard the other woman. Her back stiffened as fingers stroked the scars on her back.

"Alex," Nikita whispered.

Alex shrugged, opting to act tough.

"Did Vlad do this?" Nikita's voice was laced with steel.

Alex's head shook. "Guy who... broke us to the trade." She leaned forward to pull at the shower handles. She wanted to scour her skin just thinking about him.

Nikita's hands slid to cover swathes of the scars. She wanted to take them away. She tried to save this woman back during the assault at the estate, but didn't save her enough. Her head dropped and her eyes slid shut. "Alex," she whispered.

Alex turned toward the other woman. "I don't want your sympathy."

"You want revenge," Nikita finished for her.

Alex huffed quietly. "I-" She looked frustrated.

Nikita's arm slid around Alex's waist trying to give silent support. "Tell me."

The Russian stiffened then leaned back. "Dmitri was beating a girl for fighting... her first time. I tried to hit him with a lamp and he made me an example." She sighed. "I was more in pain for the girl than for me, even after the rod started tearing me up."

The dark haired woman made a plan to return and find Dmitri. She hugged the other woman gently. Alexandra didn't need platitudes or cliches. Nikita simply held her.

"Why?" Alex said quietly.

"I don't understand."

"Why help me? Why no one else?"

Nikita leaned into Alex. "Division. I knew about you because of them." She tensed. "I want to make those guys pay for what's happened to you, to others, but I can only fight one war at a time."

The brunette turned in Nikita's arms. There was a tear down one side of her face from the memory of what had happened to her, to the others. "We will fight both wars. We'll start with the assholes that killed my family, but only because they sound big enough to fund what I want to do to the sex traffickers."

Nikita chuckled. "You sure are blood thirsty for a woman who was locked in a sauna for days." Her hands stroked lightly over warm skin almost absently. Her eyes locked with the other woman's.

Alexandra frowned. "And sweaty." She leaned and opened up the water valve. She looked at Nikita. Her hand stroked the older woman's cheek and she touched her lips to Nikita's. "Thank you."


End file.
